


Hiding Place

by PrehistoricCat



Category: Primeval: New World
Genre: F/M, Het, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrehistoricCat/pseuds/PrehistoricCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post episode 1 x05.  After a day like today, there was only person that Evan could turn to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding Place

There really was nowhere else to go. No-one would understand the way she did. He'd knocked on the door of her apartment and was waiting for her to answer it. It was late, but she'd come; she always did.

He felt Mac's pain and he knew he should be there for him, but he couldn't. It was too raw, too close to his own pain. He could see a familiarity in the look of anger on Mac's face; he'd stared at it often enough in his own mirror every morning for several months until he found a focus for that energy that could be put to something positive. Mac would get there too, eventually.

Toby... sweet Toby. Of all the people around him right now, she'd been the one that had surprised him. He could hear her voice, insisting that the creature shouldn't be killed and spouting off at a thousand words a minute about the consequences. He'd heard a similar argument only weeks ago; the mysterious man who had tried to warn him away from the anomalies altogether. It was beginning to make sense. Who was he and what else did he know?

Then there was Dylan. He still hadn't worked her out. Today she'd seemed to agree with him at first – she wanted to get the creature back to where it belonged. But after it had killed Sam, she changed. He understood that was how it worked in her previous job at Predator control in the National parks, but this was different. She had to see that. 

He couldn't talk to any of them. Today had been his fault; he would take the fallout if the families of those that had been killed needed someone to blame. He'd dragged everyone else into this, and because of their loyalty to him, they'd followed without question or guidance. That needed to be resolved. If nothing else came of today, he would ensure they all had a set of guidelines for handling certain situations. He at least owed those that had died today that.

The door of the apartment opened. Words were not needed. When Ange Finch saw the look in Evan's eyes she pulled him into her comforting embrace; not caring that he had woken her from her slumber and not caring that she was only wearing a tiny vest and shorts. He'd seen her in far less before and now was not a time to go all shy on him. As her arms tightened around his trembling body, Evan gripped her hard and finally allowed the tears he'd been holding back to fall.

“Come inside,” Ange finally said softly, releasing her hold and taking Evan's hand into hers. He needed little persuasion. Her apartment was familiar, safe. He could be here and forget everything for a while, it was a place he could hide from the world that hurt him so much. She'd been doing this for him for the last six years since Brooke's death and old habits died hard, no matter how much you try to give them up.

“It's been a while,” Ange called from the kitchen. He could hear her filling the kettle and it made him smile. Going through the motions as usual, pretending that a cup of coffee would fix things and knowing that it was the last thing on both their minds. “Do you want to talk about it?” She was leaning against the door frame, arms folded.

“Not really.”

“OK. Is there anything I need to know?”

“Two deaths.” Evan swallowed and leaned back with his head resting on the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, willing the pain to go away. “Bill in security, and Sam.”

Concerned, Ange sat herself next to him. “Sam? Mac's girlfriend Sam?” Evan nodded and his face crumpled as he fought against the tears he could feel welling up inside. “One of your creatures?” Evan nodded again and Ange sighed.

“No lectures, Ange,” he said. “Believe me, there's nothing you could say right now that would make me feel any worse than I already do.”

Ange softened. She knew Evan too well and figured he was right. The punishment he would be dishing out to himself would hurt more than anything she could do or say. When he was thinking straight again, she'd suggest a few changes. Right now, however, there was only one thing he needed. She shifted closer and allowed her hand to rest on his thigh. He lifted his head and held her gaze, granting her permission to proceed. It was a relief; it had been several months since Evan had come to her for this and she had thought that now Dylan was on the scene she wouldn't be needed. 

The months fell away and it felt like it was only yesterday. Her hand glided confidently up his inner thigh and cupped him, caressing him and feeling his response to her touch. “Ange,” he whispered, lifting his own hand to push a stray strand of her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “You don't have to...”

Ange placed her finger on his lips to silence him. She didn't have to do anything; but she wanted to. Her free hand fumbled with his belt buckle then she slowly removed her finger and leaned forward, replacing it with her lips. 

Evan let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a cry as Ange's mouth pressed against his. The fear, loneliness and dread was slowly ebbing away as he drew her body against his. His heart was pounding hard and his throat dry, his mouth returning her kiss and his hands tentatively moving over the soft curves of her body.

The waistband of his jeans loosened and Ange's hands were inside, easing him out of his underwear. No hesitation from her; he knew he could rely on her to give him exactly what he needed. He glided his hands up and under her vest. She pressed into his touch, urging him towards exactly where she wanted him. 

The heat rose and Ange shifted, straddling Evan's strong thighs and gazing down at him. His hands moved to ease her shorts down and she wriggled out of them, positioning herself over his erection. Cupping his face with both her hands and mouthing silently that it would all be OK, she moved again and allowed him to enter her.

It was like coming home. Evan knew he wouldn't last long; he never did with Ange but she didn't seem to mind that much. She ground down to meet his upward thrust and they connected, just as they always had. He groaned out; god he needed this so much! He felt Ange's fingers wiping his silent tears from his cheeks as the fire raging in his groin threatened to engulf him. His thrusting grew more erratic and he had to grasp her hips to try and steady himself. When he released into her willing body, his tears fell harder. The painful memories of the day began to wash away with them and he felt the tension lift from his body.

Evan closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep. It was easier that way; saved both of them that awkward moment. He'd held Ange against him for a few minutes afterwards but then he felt her ease herself out of his arms and the warmth of her body left him. 

Ange disappeared into her bedroom and found a spare blanket in the chest at the bottom of the bed. She went back into the lounge and placed the blanket over Evan's sleeping body and softly kissed his forehead. As she headed back to her room where she'd been contentedly sleeping before Evan had arrived, she sighed. How much longer would this keep happening? She'd be there as long as he needed her to be because, deep down, she loved him. But she was no fool; he didn't love her. Never had and never would. Eventually, his heart would open up and allow someone else in and he wouldn't need Ange any more.

The bedroom door closed behind her; shutting out Evan Cross.


End file.
